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to be happy that Mike had asked her out to dinner — I really was relieved
that he finally seemed to be catching on — but my enthusiasm sounded
false in my own ears。 She rescheduled our shopping trip for tomorrow
night。
Which left me with little in the way of distractions。 I had fish
marinating for dinner； with a salad and bread left over from the night
before； so there was nothing to do there。 I spent a focused half hour on
homework； but then I was through with that； too。 I checked my email；
reading the backlog of letters from my mother； getting snippier as they
progressed to the present。 I sighed and typed a quick response。
Mom；
Sorry。 I've been out。 I went to the beach with some friends。 And I had to
write a paper。
My excuses were fairly pathetic； so I gave up on that。
It's sunny outside today I know； I'm shocked； too so I'm going to go
outside and soak up as much vitamin D as I can。 I love you；
Bella。
I decided to kill an hour with nonschoolrelated reading。 I had a small
collection of books that came with me to Forks； the shabbiest volume
being a pilation of the works of Jane Austen。 I selected that one and
headed to the backyard； grabbing a ragged old quilt from the linen
cupboard at the top of the stairs on my way down。
Outside in Charlie's small； square yard； I folded the quilt in half and
laid it out of the reach of the trees' shadows on the thick lawn that
would always be slightly wet； no matter how long the sun shone。 I lay on
my stomach； crossing my ankles in the air； flipping through the different
novels in the book； trying to decide which would occupy my mind the most
thoroughly。 My favorites were Pride and Prejudice and Sense and
Sensibility。 I'd read the first most recently； so I started into Sense
and Sensibility； only to remember after I began three that the hero of
the story happened to be named Edward。 Angrily； I turned to Mansfield
Park； but the hero of that piece was named Edmund； and that was just too
close。 Weren't there any other names available in the late eighteenth
century？ I snapped the book shut； annoyed； and rolled over onto my back。
I pushed my sleeves up as high as they would go； and closed my eyes。 I
would think of nothing but the warmth on my skin； I told myself severely。
The breeze was still light； but it blew tendrils of my hair around my
face； and that tickled a bit。 I pulled all my hair over my head； letting
it fan out on the quilt above me； and focused again on the heat that
touched my eyelids； my cheekbones； my nose； my lips； my forearms； my
neck； soaked through my light shirt…
The next thing I was conscious of was the sound of Charlie's cruiser
turning onto the bricks of the driveway。 I sat up in surprise； realizing
the light was gone； behind the trees； and I had fallen asleep。 I looked
around； muddled； with the sudden feeling that I wasn't alone。
〃Charlie？〃 I asked。 But I could hear his door slamming in front of the
house。
I jumped up； foolishly edgy； gathering the nowdamp quilt and my book。 I
ran inside to get some oil heating on the stove； realizing that dinner
would be late。 Charlie was hanging up his gun belt and stepping out of
his boots when I came in。
〃Sorry； Dad； dinner's not ready yet — I fell asleep outside。〃 I stifled a
yawn。
〃Don't worry about it；〃 he said。 〃I wanted to catch the score on the
game； anyway。〃
I watched TV with Charlie after dinner； for something to do。 There wasn't
anything on I wanted to watch； but he knew I didn't like baseball； so he
turned it to some mindless sit that neither of us enjoyed。 He seemed
happy； though； to be doing something together。 And it felt good； despite
my depression； to make him happy。
〃Dad；〃 I said during a mercial； 〃Jessica and Angela are going to look
at dresses for the dance tomorrow night in Port Angeles； and they wanted
me to help them choose… do you mind if I go with them？〃
〃Jessica Stanley？〃 he asked。
〃And Angela Weber。〃 I sighed as I gave him the details。
He was confused。 〃But you're not going to the dance； right？〃
〃No； Dad； but I'm helping them find dresses — you know； giving them
constructive criticism。〃 I wouldn't have to explain this to a woman。
〃Well； okay。〃 He seemed to realize that he was out of his depth with the
girlie stuff。 〃It's a school night； though。〃
〃We'll leave right after school； so we can get back early。 You'll be okay
for dinner； right？〃
〃Bells； I fed myself for seventeen years before you got here；〃 he
reminded me。
〃I don't know how you survived；〃 I muttered； then added more clearly；
〃I'll leave some things for coldcut sandwiches in the fridge； okay？
Right on top。〃
It was sunny again in the morning。 I awakened with renewed hope that I
grimly tried to suppress。 I dressed for the warmer weather in a deep blue
Vneck blouse — something I'd worn in the dead of winter in Phoenix。
I had planned my arrival at school so that I barely had time to make it
to class。 With a sinking heart； I circled the full lot looking for a
space； while also searching for the silver Volvo that was clearly not
there。 I parked in the last row and hurried to English； arriving
breathless； but subdued； before the final bell。
It was the same as yesterday — I just couldn't keep little sprouts of
hope from budding in my mind； only to have them squashed painfully as I
searched the lunchroom in vain and sat at my empty Biology table。
The Port Angeles scheme was back on again for tonight and made all the
more attractive by the fact that Lauren had other obligations。 I was
anxious to get out of town so I could stop glancing over my shoulder；
hoping to see him appearing out of the blue the way he always did。 I
vowed to myself that I would be in a good mood tonight and not ruin
Angela's or Jessica's enjoyment in the dress hunting。 Maybe I could do a
little clothes shopping as well。 I refused to think that I might be
shopping alone in Seattle this weekend； no longer interested in the
earlier arrangement。 Surely he wouldn't cancel without at least telling
me。
After school； Jessic